


techno teaching tommy how to stab

by nerdsquad7076



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Family, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Good dad Phil, Help, I live for the family dynamics okay, I'm Bad At Tagging, Little bit of angst, SBI Family Dynamic, Sleepy Boys Inc - Freeform, Uncle Techno, mostly fluff tho, sbi family dynamic but uncle techno instead of brother techno, techno teaching tommy how to stab
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:08:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29489571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdsquad7076/pseuds/nerdsquad7076
Summary: UNCLE TECHNOCHAOS CHILD TOMMYPHIIL, WILBUR, AND TUBBO ARE HERE TOO:D
Relationships: All Platonic BoiiiiS, Clay | Dream & Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 86





	techno teaching tommy how to stab

**Author's Note:**

> so...  
> I really like the SBI family dynamic.  
> I also know it’s not canon.  
> And I know, “screw canon” and all that, but I had this thought.  
> If Techno and Phil were close friends, then would Techno have been around while Wilbur, Tommy, and Tubbo were growing up?  
> And if so, would he act as a surrogate uncle of sorts?  
> And then i had the idea...  
> techno teaching tommy how to stab  
> That’s honestly all i had going into this fic, its not planned out at all, and the ending is kind rushed, but yaaaaaay

AGE 4

“Tommy, no,” Techno sighed, taking the blade from the toddler for what seemed like the hundredth time this afternoon, “You don’t hold the blade like that.”

Tommy was waddling toward Techno again, reaching for the stone sword Techno had crafted for him. Techno stood up and held the blade above Tommy’s head, keeping it out of reach. Tommy huffed and dropped to sit on the cold ground.

“You don’t get to hold the sword until you listen to me.”

“Tech, are you sure this is a good idea?” Phil said from a few yards away, holding Tubbo and Wilbur’s hands, “He’s just a toddler.”

“He needs to learn to defend himself,” Technoblade responded, “He’ll be the strongest of the family.”

“You can teach Wil instead,” Phil offered, concern apparent in his voice, “he’s older and he’d probably listen to you.”

“I want to learn how to use a sword, pa!” Tommy shouted, from his sitting position on the ground, “I wanna be cool, like Uncle Technoblade!”

He jumped to his feet, grabbing a twig off the ground. He charged at Phil, whose wings puffed out in surprise. Tommy jabbed Phil in the stomach, yelling at the top of his lungs.

“Let them go!” He shouted, grabbing Tubbo and Wilbur away from Phil, “I’ll protect you, I have a sword!”

Despite the concern Techno could still see in Phil’s eyes, the father’s face lit up. He crouched down and started approaching the boys, wings flapping out behind him.

“I’m gonna getcha,” he said, grinning. Tommy yelped and took a step back, but Techno saw his fist tightening around his stick. 

Tubbo’s eyes were wide with confusion, but Wilbur seemed to understand what was going on. He grabbed Tubbo and cowered behind Tommy.

“Oh, protect us, great knight Tommy,” He cried, hiding his face from Phil.

Tubbo, who apparently still had no idea what was going on, cowered with Wilbur.

“I’ll protect you!” Tommy shouted, turning around to grin at Wil and Tubbo, “I’m the greatest!”

Tommy turned back to Phil and charged at him, “sword” pointed out straight in front of him. Phil jumped forward, spreading out his wings to their widest extent. Tommy yelled something indecipherable, but something that sounded, to Technoblade, like “Die!”

Tommy jabbed Phil in the stomach, before jumping back again. Phil groaned in defeat and fell to the ground, making sure not to land on his wings. Techno knew how fragile they were, despite looking strong.

“You have defeated me!” Phil cried, looking up at Tommy, “You really are the strongest warrior!”

“Yeaaaaa!” Tommy cried, plucking Phil’s hat off his head as a prize, “I’m the best!”

Wilbur yelped with joy, and Tubbo grinned, seemingly understanding what happened.

As the boys celebrated, Techno helped Phil to his feet, careful not to put weight on his wings.

“Maybe you have a point, Tech,” Phil chuckled, “I still don’t like it, but maybe Tommy could use some lessons. Just so he doesn’t accidentally stab himself when he uses a real sword.”

Technoblade nodded, watching the boys play in the grass. Tommy was wearing Phil’s hat, proclaiming to anyone who would listen how he vanquished the great Philza. Wilbur was gushing to Tommy about how wonderful he was, and if he would let Wilbur sing a song about him. Tubbo, lost in the clouds as he always was, was sitting in the grass, watching a bee crawl around on a puffy, purple flower. 

“He’s a firecracker, Phil,” Techno said, after a long, weighted pause, “They all are. They’re gonna change the face of this earth or die trying.”

AGE 10

“Okay, Tommy, today I’m going to teach you an advanced parry.”

“Ughhhh, but Teccchhhhhh, we did learning yesterday, can’t we fight today?”

“Tommy, this is sword-fighting practice,” Techno sighed, “this is fighting.”

“Noooo, but I wanna fight you!” Tommy whined, “Please, I already know all the basics, and I want to see really how good you are.”

Technoblade huffed. He knew if he actually wanted to fight Tommy, Tommy would probably be at swordpoint right now.

“Tommy-“

“I know what it is,” Tommy said, a mischievous grin on his face, “You’re not as good as you say you are, and you’re scared I’m going to beat you.”

“As if,” Technoblade scoffed, “Not only am I older, bigger, and stronger than you, I’ve practiced with weapons since I was younger than you are now.”

“Nah, I think you’re just weak,” Tommy said, grinning. 

He turned around and started parading around the ring Techno had set up for them to practice.

“Technoblade’s scared of me, Technoblade’s scared of me,” he chanted, “Did you hear that Tubbo?  _ ‘The Blade’  _ is scared of me!”

Tubbo, glancing up from his spot a few feet outside the ring, grinned at Tommy. He set his carving, a block of wood half shaped into a little bee, to the side and walked over to the ring, leaning over the wooden fence.

“Is that so, Tech?” He asked, eyes alight with the same mischief as Tommy.

“No, it ain’t,” Techno huffed, turning around so he wouldn’t be infected by their grins, “I just don’t want to fight him, that’s all.”

“Sounds to me like you’re scared,” A different voice called from closer to the house.

Wilbur.

Techno turned around to face the three boys. They all had the same mischievous grins on their faces, and the same brightness in their eyes. They were their father’s sons, alright, even if Tubbo was adopted. 

“You know I ain’t scared, Wil, I just-“

Phil walked out of the house, eyes alight with the same mischief as his sons. Even if Techno could refuse Wilbur, Tommy, and Tubbo, he couldn’t say no to Phil.

“Fine, fine,” Techno huffed, picking up a stone practice sword, “Practice swords, though. I don’t want to lose control and accidentally skewer the boy.”

Tommy, Tubbo, and Wilbur cheered, and Phil came to stand just outside the ring with them. 

Tommy grabbed the other practice sword, the one Techno made specifically for him, his hands, his arms, and his movements all in mind.

It was shorter than Techno’s sword, and lighter, too. Techno knew that Tommy wasn’t a brute fighter like him; Tommy preferred to leap back and forth, as he was probably the lightest on his feet of them all, distracting and confusing his opponent, until he could get solid hits in. 

Tommy tended to avoid defenses, while Technoblade bashed right through them.

Tommy bowed to Technoblade, something Tech made sure to teach him: respect your opponent, don’t underestimate them, they are trying their hardest to beat you.

Technoblade bowed back, and raised his sword to Tommy. Tommy did the same, and as soon as the swords touched in mid-air, the battle began. Tommy retreated to the edges of the sword ring, preparing for Techno to attack him.

Techno turned to face him, a familiar sound ringing in his brain.

The voices.

They were quiet during most moments, soft enough and passive enough for him to ignore.

But when he felt the familiar leather grip in his hand, or the adrenaline of battle in his blood, or, at worst, that familiar sour, metallic smell on his nose, they could roar.

They demanded blood, and would not quiet until they got it.

But Techno had to ignore them, for if they got what they demanded, Tommy would soon lay dead at his feet. And he would sooner die himself than see that happen. 

He blinked, and stepped toward Tommy, grip tightening on the sword.

To his surprise, Tommy lunged forward to attack him. Tommy usually waited for an opening, for the opponent’s moment of weakness.

He rarely created that moment himself. And both Techno and Tommy knew that. 

But Techno also knew that Tommy was strategic. Chaotic, sure, but he looked for any edge he could get.

And if starting off on the attack gave Tommy an edge, that is what he did. 

Techno, processing this all in a moment, parried the lunge and countered with a strike of his own, the flat of his blade against Tommy’s arm. Tommy weaved out of the way just in time, blocking it with his own sword while positioning himself to attack again.

But Techno, with the voices screaming for blood, attacked first this time.

Multiple times.

His arm and sword were a blur of energy, crossing back and forth, trying to break Tommy’s defenses. Tommy blocked most of the attacks with his own sword, but suffered a few light scratches.

They were light, but prominent, and Tommy winced as the blade cut through the thin leather armor Techno had made for him. He knew, from watching Techno battle occasionally with Phil, that if Techno wanted him dead, he would be. Tommy knew that Techno wouldn’t attack him with full force, and he used that to his advantage.

He charged at Techno. It bore a striking resemblance, in Technoblade’s mind, to the first time he tried to teach Tommy to fight, and he attacked Phil instead, six years earlier.

Tommy struck, driving his blade toward Techno’s stomach. Techno saw the attack coming and dodged out of the way, using his body weight to knock Tommy over while he moved.

Tommy crashed to the ground, wincing at the impact. His sword spun out of his hand, coming to a stop a few feet away.

Techno stood, breathing heavily, and dropped his own sword. The voices were so loud now; he knew if he kept holding the sword he might hurt Tommy with it. While some were satiated with him winning the fight, many others still roared for blood.

Techno, ignoring the voices, helped Tommy to his feet, clapped him on the back, and wandered out of the ring toward the woods.

He heard Tubbo and Wil congratulating Tommy on his fighting, and he felt Phil’s concerned eyes on his back, but he continued on.

Phil knew about the voices, how they often called for blood, and how Techno would wander into the woods occasionally, only to come back with strange loot and covered in blood. But he trusted Techno. Around his home, around his children, around himself. 

And he would never betray Phil’s trust.

AGE 16

Techno’s mind began to wander as he trekked back to his cabin. He recounted many memories, some pleasant, some… less so, but all heavy, weighing on his mind. Memories of learning to fight, and using those skills, fighting for his life. Memories of teaching those skills: sword-fighting to Tommy, carving to Tubbo, leading to Wilbur.

Technoblade was not one for feelings, but he could not deny the pain he felt.

They were his family once: Phil, Wilbur, Tommy, and Tubbo. Maybe not by blood. But Phil was his brother. Tommy, Wilbur, and Tubbo were his nephews. 

What had happened to tear them apart?

They grew apart naturally, as people do. The only one he kept in contact with was Phil.

And then there was L’manberg. And the whole mess with the Dream SMP.

And Techno did not want to get involved, he refused to get involved. 

But Wil and Tommy needed help. They had been thrown out, defeated, by a tyrant, and Techno understood that. He helped.

And he helped.

But he got very little in return.

They didn’t want to take down the government, just set up a new one.

He was used. They thought of him as a weapon, to use as they liked and toss away when they were done.

And Techno understood that people could be like that. Techno understood that they were children, and didn’t understand what they were doing.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t retaliate. Just because they didn’t know what they were doing the first time didn’t mean they were allowed to do it again.

And so he retaliated.

He spawned withers, he killed people, he told them exactly what he thought.

He winced at the words he had spoken. The words he said to Tommy. They were true, of course, Techno didn’t doubt that. But maybe he too had forgotten that Tommy was a child. That he deserved to grow up like the rest of them, without war, without betrayal, without chaos.

But it doesn’t work that way for everyone.

Techno shook his head, clearing the thoughts from his mind. The longer he spent in that world, the louder the voices would become. And they were roaring now.

They clamored in the usual way, calling for blood, chanting the letter ‘e’ (Techno didn’t understand that one, but nevertheless).

A few voices called the names of his family, Tommy in particular. They cried out, saying that Tommy was near, and Techno should go to him.

“Tommy’s in exile,” Techno said, as much to himself as the voices, “I might go back eventually, but he’s definitely not here.”

The voices hushed. Techno locked Carl in the stable and headed up the stairs to his house. 

He stopped.

Muddy footprints on the stairs. Techno cocked his head and looked at the foot prints, trying to determine whose they were.

Too big to be Phil’s, too small to be his own, too uneven to be Dream’s.

Who else?

The voices began again, a hushed chorus of Tommy, and Raccoon, and Innit.

Maybe Tommy was here. The voices were rarely wrong.

But why would he be here?

Techno shook his head, clearing his thoughts and heading into his house. Nothing seemed to be amiss, but there was something about the room that made Techno bristle. The voices had set him on edge, but Tommy was nowhere to be found. 

Technoblade unloaded his gear into a nearby chest and simply nodded to Edward, who was sitting by the fire. He headed down to the basement to check the rest of his house, for the uneasy feeling had not left.

In fact, as he headed down the ladder, it seemed to rise. He peeked down into his villager room, but nothing seemed amiss there.

So it was the basement then. He looked around the room, eyes roaming over the walls, looking for anything out of place.

There. One spot, in the corner of the eastern wall. The wall had been recently broken and replaced. The intruder was there.

He quickly opened a space and stepped inside, into a yellow room.

There was someone in there, in a red-sleeved t-shirt. Techno didn’t recognize him at first. The someone glanced up, panicked at the sight of Techno, then forced a grin on his face.

“Heyyyyy, Uncle Techhhhhhh,” Tommy drawled.

“What are you doing in my house?” Techno asked, unsure of what else to say. Should he apologize? Should he attack?

“Uhhhh, I needed a place to stay, so I thought no one better than my Uncle Technoblade,” Tommy answered, stepping past Techno and into the basement, “Besides, you owe me.”

“For what?” Techno responded, raising an eyebrow.

“You blew up my country,” Tommy said, “I can stay in your house for a while.”

Tommy put a golden apple he was holding into his mouth and climbed up the ladder. Techno sputtered and climbed up after him.

“I blew up your country cause y’all used me!” 

“Yeah, well,” Tommy responded, searching for an answer.

He didn’t find one.

“Look, I’m sorry, Tech. I’ve had a lot of time to think, a lot. I’m sorry for what happened with L’manberg, but you weren’t exactly a saint either, ey?”

Tommy looked sincere. It was off-putting to Techno, he didn’t expect Tommy to ever apologize to him.

“Uh, yeah, apology accepted and all that, but why are you in my house?”

Tommy shrugged, turning around to rifle through one of Techno’s chests.

“Didn’t like exile no more, and Dream was being a bitch.”

“Sounds about right,” Techno responded, unsure of what else to say.

A quiet, uncomfortable pause.

“So, how’s retirement been for ya?” Tommy asked, turning around to face Technoblade again.

“It’s, uh, it’s pretty great actually. No drama or government. No chaos.”

“What is it with you and government? It’s not that great, sure, but it’s not the worst thing in the world.”

Technoblade huffed.

“It’s bad for the people, suppressing rights. It would be better if-“

“Yeah, yeah, I don’t actually want to know,” Tommy said, “I just wanted to make conversation.”

Techno rolled his eyes.

“How was exile?” He said.

Tommy’s usually bright eyed became dark and tired. He slumped into a chair next to the fire.

“It was shit, Techno,” He murmured, gazing into the fire.

“Well, uh, that’s rough buddy.”

“Barely anyone showed up, and those who did only came to make fun of me. The only one I had was Dream, and I don’t even know if he was really my friend. I thought he was, but he destroyed my camp, and all my stuff, and… and I just couldn’t do it anymore, Tech.”

Technoblade didn’t know what to say. 

“You want revenge, Tommy?” Is the best he could come up with.

Tommy’s eyes lit up. 

“On Dream, hell yes. On the others, I don’t know.”

“You need to be strong enough to beat him then, hm?”

A mischievous smile came onto Tommy’s face, a smile Techno had seen many times before.

“What are you suggesting, Uncle Tech?”

“I still have your old practice sword. We could start up your lessons again.”

Tommy leaped out of the chair and rushed out the door.

“You’re on.”

**Author's Note:**

> Okay thats it i did this instead of an english essay ahahahaha help me


End file.
